


Hooked On You

by Chamelaucium



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fishing, Fluff, M/M, Summer Romance, Thorin is a little bundle of ansgt with FEELINGS, durin family love, kind of pervy Thorin?, oh god awkwardness ahead, secretly-flirty!Bilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 04:52:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1805959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chamelaucium/pseuds/Chamelaucium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin should have learnt not to trust his brother and sister by now.</p><p><em>Come with us on holiday,</em> they’d said. <em>It’ll be fun,</em> they’d said. <em>A nice break from work.</em></p><p>Yeah right. All this holiday had brought him was being knocked around the head, acute hay-fever, and the biggest, most ridiculous crush ever on the cute, golden-haired fishing instructor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hooked On You

**Author's Note:**

> YAY so today is my birthday and because I'm a proper little hobbit, I wrote this and now I present it to you as a birthday mathom from me. <3 
> 
> Um, I know nothing about sail boats, next to nothing about fishing and it's my first time writing anything even close to smut (hahahahahaa) so I'm sorry if that's completely awful but hey, these two are just awkward like all the time so I guess it's alright... XD
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! :3

Thorin Durin had a hundred and one things to do and joining his brother and sister on their summer holiday was not one of them. However, while he was able to resist Frerin’s wheedling amd Dís’ bullying, he was absolutely powerless in the face of his nephews’ pleading, hurt gazes as they begged to come along.

“Please, Uncle Thorin,” Fíli said, blue eyes wide. “It’ll be fun.”

“You give better piggyback rides than Uncle Frerin,” Kíli pointed out. “And besides, mum’s too short to swing us with Uncle Frerin now. We need _you._ ”

“I…” Thorin could feel his determination slipping steadily away. If he knew his sister at all, she’d deliberately scheduled her hair appointment for the day Frerin had to work and it would inevitable fall to Thorin to watch the boys. He’d hoped to distract them by taking them out for hot chocolate but so far, it hadn’t proved effective. “Aren’t you too big to swing now?” he finally said, avoiding giving an answer. He had a feeling he’d end up agreeing eventually; he may as well let his freedom last as long as it possibly could.

“ _I’m_ not,” Kíli said proudly, as if this fact was down to personal skill rather than the fact he’d been born second, his whipped cream forming a little white moustache on his upper lip. “And I want _you_ to swing me with Uncle Frerin.”

Thorin pressed a hand to his forehead, sighing as he closed his eyes. He regretted it a moment later when a small screech from Fíli made him snap his eyes open and he found that Kíli had painted a whipped cream stripe across his brother’s cheek; Fíli was just about to flick some of his into Kíli’s hair when he stopped and looked contrite at Thorin’s look.

“If I say yes, will you two behave yourselves?” In unison the boys nodded, Fíli still with his dairy war paint, and Thorin let out a long suffering sigh. “Fine, I’ll come with you. You can tell your mother when she comes to pick you up.”

The boys graced him with their best smiles, which in Kíli’s case was all too reminiscent of Dís, and began to tell him about what fun they were going to have. Thorin personally couldn’t think of anything worse than spending a fortnight in the enforced company of his siblings, doing such things as fishing and hiking and building dens. His nephews, he could deal with, but he had a feeling he’d end up murdering Frerin before the week was out.

-

As expected, Dís’ grin when Fíli and Kíli excitedly began gibbering that Uncle Thorin had agreed was far too knowing for Thorin’s liking. She didn’t even look surprised.

“I’m so glad you decided to come,” she said, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “Balin says you’re working far too hard and you need a break.”

“I was manipulated into it,” Thorin muttered, sending a fond glare at the backs of his nephews’ heads. If they weren’t his nephews he’d probably think they were the spawn of some devil, the trouble they caused (that said, they _were_ Dís’ children). “Glad to see you’re not above such underhand tactics.”

“Of course,” she grinned, petting his cheek. “Otherwise you’d never agree to come.”

“I wonder why that is,” he muttered and she elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

“You’ll _love_ it,” she said. “The place looks lovely and the best bit about it is you’ll get to spend a whole fortnight with me and all our boys.”

“Lucky me,” he sighed half-heartedly, trying to console himself that perhaps it wouldn’t be all that bad (wishful thinking) and that at least Fíli and Kíli wanted him there (as manual labourer). As for Dís and Frerin, he’d find ways to get them back later, preferably slowly and painfully as repayment for the hell he was going to be put through. Not only did he not even like summer – it was always too hot, too much sun, everything was too _warm_ – but he’d have to spend two weeks surrounded by _nature._ Trees and flowers and things that gave him hay-fever. And no air-con.

Mahal, he was going to regret this. He just knew it.

-

Two weeks later he was sat in the back of Dís’ overfull car between Fíli and Kíli in the back, Dís at the wheel (dangerous) and Frerin in the other front seat. Frerin was singing along to the radio at a gratingly loud volume, Fíli’s and Kíli’s high little voices chiming in at the chorus – although Kíli also sang the same lines again and again, not quite grasping the fact the lyrics changed. Dís just kept glancing at them in the rear-view mirror, a grin on her face.

“Chin up, brother,” Frerin said, far too chipper considering they’d been stuck in this car for over four hours with only two loo breaks and a lunch stop to speak of. “We’re nearly there, and then you can wilt as many flowers as you like with that withering glare of yours.” He snorted with laughter as said withering glare was sent in his direction and Thorin grit his teeth, mindful of little ears and easily influenced minds.

“Can’t wait,” he settled for instead, and Frerin just smirked at his tone.

“Are we nearly there yet, mum?” Fíli asked from Thorin’s right and he just managed to stifle a sigh; once Fíli started there’s be no stopping Kíli once he joined in.. He ruffled Fíli’s hair and chuckled as the lad pouted slightly.

“Why don’t we play a game?” he suggested, and they ended up playing I Spy. Again. but Fíli’s face brightened so Thorin forced himself to pretend that he had no idea that Fíli’s ‘c’ was ‘cloud’ or ‘t’ was ‘tree’; he truly did have no idea what Kíli was trying to get at on the younger lad’s turn. He was grateful when Kíli fell asleep, Fíli also lapsing into a sleepy quiet beside him, head lolling on Thorin’s shoulder. So maybe he found his siblings more than a little annoying, but he loved these boys to bits.

“You know,” he said to Dís, “you still haven’t told me exactly where it is we’re going.”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” she promised him. “We’re about half an hour away."

To Thorin’s resignation they passed the city of Bree – at least there’d have been air-con and proper roads there – and carried on through the countryside, turning off the motorway and passing little hamlets surrounded by forests and every now and then he caught the flash of late afternoon sunlight on water. Eventually they passed through a little village called Hobbiton, clear of trees but the forest resuming after a hundred yards or so. On the other side of the village Thorin saw a large expanse of flat water, the other banks not even visible from his view point, and the sun turned it orange, the reflection almost blinding him.

A little way off from the village they pulled up at a gate that read ‘Shire resort and get-away’, and Thorin groaned internally. He’d known there’d be nature but at this rate that was all there was going to be – trees, trees and more trees except for where there was a lake. He cursed Balin for letting him take the time off. He could hardly contain his enthusiasm and looked at his sister, unimpressed; she just smiled back.

“Wake the boys up, would you?” she asked sweetly. “They’ll want to know we’ve arrived.” With a sigh Thorin did so, his eardrums nearly bursting from the excited babbling coming from them as Dís started the car again and headed into the resort. Frerin was only encouraging them, bouncing up and down in his seat like an overeager puppy. Thorin just wanted to go home.

-

Dís hurried over to the welcome lodge while the boys piled out and stretched their legs – which felt like heaven to Thorin after five hours cooped up in the car. The back seat was not made with tall people in mind. He could feel his nose beginning to itch thanks to the various flora everywhere but he ignored it in favour of walking out the cramp in his legs.

“Here comes Dís,” Frerin said after a while and with a little whoop Kíli bounded off to join her. Thorin turned and saw her making her way over, accompanied by one of the resort workers.

Thorin’s stomach dropped to the floor and he sucked in a breath. The man beside Dís had a soft tan and fair, honey coloured curls. His rolled-up shirt sleeves showed his arms to be practically hairless while the undone top button revealed a triangle of golden skin at his throat just beaded with sweat. Not that Thorin was looking, or anything.

“Hello everyone,” the man said cheerfully, grinning around at them all with Kíli already having attached himself to his side like a limpet, and Thorin tried not to whimper at his voice. “I’m Bilbo.”

“Delighted,” Frerin said, moving forwards to shake the man’s hands. “Frerin.”

“Fíli,” Fíli said, a little shyly, looking up at Bilbo in awe which made Bilbo smile as he bent down to take his hand too; Thorin cut off a groan as his long shorts tightened at the movement, revealing the shape of Bilbo’s pert little ass –

Oh Mahal. Thorin had it bad.

Bilbo had straightened looked at him at the strangled noise Thorin had made and he coughed, blushing a fierce crimson. “I – uh – I’m,” he said, voice thick and he coughed again to clear it. “Thorin,” he finally got out and was proud of himself when Bilbo took his hand and he managed to keep his cool. Ish. “It’s – my hay-fever,” he said, waving vaguely in the air in an (unnecessary) explanation. Bilbo’s eyes, which had been full of wary confusion, now widened in concern.

“Oh,” he said. “We have things at the shop to help with that,” he said earnestly, eyes wide, and Thorin desperately tried to look anywhere but at that triangle of warm skin at his throat and the sudden urge he had to taste it. “I can show you if you like.”

“It’s fine,” Thorin said quickly – too quickly, and tried not to sag in relief when Bilbo’s gaze moved back to Dís after giving him a quick smile and an “okay”. Thorin decidedly ignored Frerin’s attempts to catch his eye. His face was still bright red and he busied himself by becoming exceedingly interested in the dirt by his foot.

“Right then,” Bilbo was saying, and Thorin forced himself to focus on his words not his voice. “I’m sure you’ll all want to get freshened up and out of this heat, so I’ll show you to where you’ll be staying. If someone wants to bring the car round…?”

“I’ll do that,” Thorin said quickly and before Dís could protest he grabbed the keys from her and got in, his face on fire and wishing the ground would open and swallow him up. It was this _heat,_ that was all. He tried to get a grip on himself in the minute or so he had while the others sorted themselves out and then began to follow them in the car as Bilbo led them down the dirt roads to their accommodation. And Thorin certainly did not watch the way those shorts clung perfectly to his thighs as he walked, not at all… thankfully the potholes that jolted him every now and again did wonders for keeping his concentration on driving and not on inappropriate things, though he wasn’t sure it was so good for the car.

Finally they stopped in a clearing with a row of what looked like _burrows_ – houses built half underground, each with a neat little garden. He let out a sigh; he didn’t have high hopes for this at all. Especially not if Bilbo was sticking around – Thorin couldn’t place it but there was something about the man that was doing things to Thorin’s body and filling his mind with things that made him blush just thinking about. The man wasn’t even _sexy,_ with his round cheeks and dimples and curls. But for some reason Thorin’s body decided to betray him by deciding that it found Bilbo attractive and wanted a piece of it.

He dropped his head to the wheel with an audible thud; this fortnight was going to be hell.

-

“What was all that about earlier, brother?” Frerin asked slyly, sidling up to Thorin’s side as he stood in the garden of what Bilbo had called their ‘smial’ – he’d looked mortally offended when he heard Thorin refer to it as a burrow – while Dís stopped Fíli and Kíli from running and breaking something before they’d even been there for more than two hours.

“What was what about?” he asked gruffly, ignoring Frerin’s knowing look.

“I _mean,_ does my big brother have a bit of a crush?” he clarified.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” Frerin said, his voice dripping in mirth. “Roping him in with that sob story about your hay-fever-“

“I _do_ have hay-fever,” Thorin interrupted irritably. Frerin just hummed and clapped him on the back.

“Well frankly, Thorin, even if you _did_ want to tap that-“

“I don’t want to tap that,” Thorin grumbled but Frerin ignored him.

“-if you _did_ want to tap that, he’s way out of your league,” he finished, dodging the elbow aimed in his direction and cackling. Mahal, Thorin hated his brother.

-

At least the place wasn’t as bad as Thorin had feared. There was air-con, which was a blessing even if the rest of the _‘smial’_ had its problems and Thorin kept bumping his head on the low ceilings and had been sporting an angry red bruise for a good few days. The food was good too, and Fíli and Kíli were loving everything about the place. They shared a room with Dís while Thorin was stuck rooming with Frerin, much to his chagrin, and that first night he’d got so sick of Frerin’s teasing that he’d gotten up and slept on the sofa in the main room, unfortunately leaving himself vulnerable to Fíli and Kíli bouncing up and down on him at six in the morning, Dís having thrown them out of her room after they’d accidentally woken her up.

Thorin had taken the boys out to the shore of the lake - which was just across from them - still in his pyjamas, and had sat himself down on a log while they paddled at the water’s edge; suddenly he’d heard a chirpy call of ‘good morning!’ from behind him, only to find Bilbo walking along the path with a fishing rod and pack on his back, a flattering plaid shirt on and the sleeves rolled up again in this surprising early morning heat. Thorin was suddenly all too aware of his ill-fitting pyjamas and un-brushed hair as he waved back, too tongue-tied to formulate a reply. Bilbo had just smiled brightly and continued on his way, Thorin slumping forward and resting his head in his hands. His misery was only accentuated when ten minutes later Fíli and Kíli had called him to the water’s edge and pointed out onto the lake, where Thorin saw a figure in a familiar plaid shirt pulling at the sails on his boat, curls bright in the light reflecting off the water.

Aside from that, the first couple of days had passed relatively well, in a whirl of nature trails and hikes and den-building and bird-watching (which Fíli and Kíli were entirely too noisy for) and sneezing, on Thorin’s part, the hay-fever tablets he’d brought with him only doing so much when he was surrounded by so much _nature._ He’d seen Bilbo around a couple of times but never close enough to talk and he endured Dís’ and Frerin’s teasing as well as he could (namely by ignoring them completely and going off on his own to sulk). But he should have known it wasn’t going to last, because on their fifth day at the Shire resort, Dís had decided they would all try fishing.

And to Thorin’s utter dismay, Bilbo was the instructor.

“You’ll like what we’re doing today,” Dís said as she put a few of the boys’ spare clothes into a bag after breakfast.

“Why?” Thorin asked warily, if Dís thought he’d like it, that was usually a sign he wouldn’t.

“We’re going fishing!” she said cheerfully. Thorin stared at her blankly and she sighed, “Well, just think about the fact that if you catch anything you can eat it.”

Thorin shrugged. He didn’t really see why that meant he’d like it. He found out soon enough however, as he, Dís and the boys (he counted Frerin as one of the boys; he was just an overgrown child anyway) waited on a little wooden jetty over the lake. There was no boat moored there at that point but Dís assured them that their guide would be there soon, so Thorin busied himself with trying to make sure Fíli and Kíli didn’t fall into the water. It was hardly deep enough to drown them, especially since they were both good swimmers, but it would just be unnecessary hassle to jump in and save them before they’d even technically left land.

But when the boat pulled up and a figure jumped down onto the jetty and moored it, Thorin almost wished one of them _had_ fallen in. Because there was Bilbo, grin on his face and curls ruffling in the breeze, in a white shirt that was entirely too see-through for Thorin’s liking. His mouth went dry just at the hint of soft pink skin visible underneath that cotton. With a cough he turned to Dís, eyes wide, and her smug grin told him everything. Oh Mahal.

“Lovely day for fishing,” Bilbo said cheerfully as he joined them, an open smile on his face, “You looking forward to it?” he asked Fíli and Kíli who nodded earnestly and Bilbo’s smile only got wider as he greeted Dís and Frerin – it seemed they were already best buddies now, somehow – and Thorin tried to act cool and collected when Bilbo’s gaze fell on him. He obviously failed, if Bilbo’s face falling was any indication. He cursed himself internally; what if the man could tell what he was thinking? What if he somehow knew that Thorin was itching to know how soft his skin was, to smell his hair and kiss his lips –?

Sweet merciful Mahal. Bilbo was looking very concerned and he turned away, Thorin only just managing not to curse out loud. He glared at Frerin when his brother clapped him on the back, a smirk tugging at his lips, and he continued to glower so much that Bilbo fairly thrust the lifejacket into his hands before hurriedly turning away. When Dís trod purposefully painfully on his foot he stifled his yelp – though with difficulty.

“Stop scaring poor Mr. Baggins,” she hissed at him. “Or else I’ll send you back to the smial.”

“Please do,” he begged her earnestly. He couldn’t deal with being on a boat in such close proximity to this man whose very presence did inexplicable things to his insides. For that Dís punched his arm, and not lightly, and told him to behave. He sighed. The sooner he got on with this, the sooner it’d be over, he supposed.

Bilbo gestured that they should all board the boat – it was a tiny little thing, with large sails and lots of ropes and pulleys that made Thorin’s head hurt just thinking about how to steer the thing. The sides of the boat were short – a railing that only reached his hips – and the whole thing looked to Thorin as if he could sink it with one misplaced step. Fíli and Kíli jumped up spritely enough while Frerin and Dís also managed to get on fine. Thorin hated water and he hated boats, he decided then, because the boat swayed alarmingly as he got on, before his weight balanced; he felt a warm hand on the small of his back which made his heart jump into his mouth but it succeeded in stopping the rocking of the boat.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly to Bilbo, who just looked amused before he grabbed the rope from the jetty and jumped on board. Suddenly he was authoritative and almost stern as he set about explaining the sailing process and rules of the boat.

“Remember to watch out for the boom,” he said. “You could get knocked out by that.” After he’d done explaining he moved up to the masts, where he heaved on a few of the pulleys (and Thorin did not notice the way his shirt sleeves hugged his arms at all) to raise the sails and with a jolt that made Thorin grab the handrail, the boat started moving as the sails filled with the breeze. To his relief they didn’t go very fast, but it was fast enough that Thorin didn’t feel safe enough to let go of the rail. On Bilbo’s instruction Fíli and Kíli were sitting, kneeling down at the prow of the boat, out of the way, while the older siblings gathered at the stern. Bilbo scampered to the tiller and guided the boat to the middle of the lake, peering over the side and dropping the sails as he let out a contented hum. Thorin noticed he wasn’t wearing shoes.

The boat was still now but it still swayed slightly in the breeze. “Still be careful of the boom,” he reminded them and Thorin glared at it warily, the large bar as thick as his legs that swung about whenever the wind changed direction. From a small covered area Bilbo brought out five fishing rods – two notably smaller than the others – and handed them out before encouraging them all to sit at the edge of the boat. Thorin found himself with his legs over the port side of the boat with Fíli and Kíli while Dís and Frerin balanced them out on the starboard side and Bilbo flitted around between them, helping them set up the rods and attach bait and cast out. Fíli and Kíli, young boys that they were, took especial delight in attaching bits of crayfish and worms to their hooks.

It was almost pleasant, Thorin decided, with the wind in his face and sun shining down, his feet in the cool water of the lake. The only thing marring it was Bilbo.

Thorin couldn’t concentrate, as Bilbo kept hovering by the lads which made him lose his focus; it was inevitably _Thorin_ who ended needing Bilbo’s assistance when at one point he lost his grip and the reel went spinning, letting loose all the line and it was only Bilbo’s quick reflexes as he caught it and snapped the reel arm back that stopped it all being let out. His arms around Thorin from where he’d lunged to help, he wound the reel back up to its proper tension and the feel of him so close was almost enough to make Thorin drop his rod again; he was sure his cheeks were bright red as he muttered out his thanks. Bilbo just graced him with his sunny smile and moved over to Dís’ side.

Frerin could hardly contain his laughter and he looked at Thorin in amusement, his eyes sparkling in boyish mischief and Thorin suppressed a sigh.

“He’s got a nice ass,” Frerin mouthed, nodding in Bilbo’s direction and Thorin scowled.

“Shut up,” he grumbled out loud.

“What’s that?” Bilbo looked around at him questioningly and Thorin flushed even darker,

“Nothing,” he said quickly and turned back to his fishing rod, looking back out across the lake.

“Uncle, your rod is bouncing,” Fíli said matter-of-factly beside him.

“What?” Thorin asked, concerned as to where Fíli had got that terrible euphemism.

“Look,” the lad said, gesturing at the end of Thorin’s fishing rod. “It’s bouncing.” It was indeed, the end of the rod jiggling up and down and he stared at it, unsure of what to do as the rod began to tremble in his grip.

“A bite!” Bilbo crowed excitedly as he came to kneel beside Thorin, his hands joining Thorin’s on the handle. Thorin was uncomfortably aware of Bilbo’s thigh pressed close to his and his mouth was instantly dry. Holding the rod felt far too much like something else he’d like to be holding, and with Bilbo so close he could feel the heat of him through his clothes it was hardly a surprise when his grip slipped and he nearly dropped it. Bilbo had a good grip on it, however, and only smiled as he righted it, pulling it up sharply before beginning to reel the line in. after what seemed an age with everyone watching, the hook broke the surface and there on the end of the line was a fish wriggling around.

“Our first catch of the day,” Bilbo grinned at Thorin who tried to shift his expression into some semblance of excitement. Bilbo pulled the fish in over onto the boat and promptly took it away to deal with it; Thorin stood uncertainly when Bilbo reappeared with the now-still fish in his hands. The breeze had picked up a little now and the previously limp sails were now fluttering restlessly.

“Congratulations,” Bilbo said as he held the fish out, a glint in his eye. Honestly, anyone would have thought Thorin had just had a _baby,_ Bilbo looked so happy. “You’ve caught yourself a nice-“

What Thorin had managed to catch he didn’t find out until later, because at that moment a particularly strong gust of wind blew and the next thing he knew something smacked into the side of his head with surprising force; he felt himself overbalance, teetering on the edge and he knew with an agonising clarity he was going to fall, before toppling over and landing with a splash in the cold lake.

-

Thorin should have learnt not to trust his brother and sister by now.

 _Come with us on holiday,_ they’d said. _It’ll be fun,_ they’d said. _A nice break from work._

Yeah right. All this holiday had brought him was being knocked around the head, acute hay-fever, and the biggest, most ridiculous crush ever on the cute, golden-haired fishing instructor. And now he’d had to be rescued from drowning by said crush, a man nearly half his size.

Okay, so perhaps he hadn’t been going to drown, but Bilbo had still had to jump in after him. He’d never live that down, ever, especially since despite shivering after being unceremoniously dumped in the lake, his body still decided to betray him by perking up in interest at Bilbo’s now wet form, his white shirt clinging to him; now there was no doubt and Thorin could see every inch of that light gold skin and those dusky nipples and-

He was just grateful for the towel that hid his obvious interest, until he managed to dampen it somewhat with thoughts of grandpa Thror that one unmentionable time. It still made him shudder to think of it.

If Bilbo thought it was embarrassment at falling in that made him hide his red face behind the towel, then so much the better. Thorin thought he might die of mortification if Bilbo found out how unwholesome his thoughts really were; the problem was only exacerbated by the fact the other man didn’t see fit to put a towel around himself, continuing to offer Thorin the most tantalising view. Frerin could hardly contain his laughter and Thorin was only too glad when Bilbo decided it was time to head back to the shore later that afternoon. Thorin couldn’t get away fast enough, walking off so quickly he nearly forgot to give Bilbo back the towel.

“I did tell you to watch out for the boom,” Bilbo said to him, his eyes crinkling with amusement and Thorin lost his ability to speak for a moment, merely making a noise of agreement and scurrying away until he could no longer feel Bilbo’s gaze on him.

And to top it all off, Fíli and Kíli decided that fishing was their new favourite activity. Thorin couldn’t stifle the despairing groan he let out then, while Frerin just patted him on the shoulder with the biggest shit-eating grin known to man on his face. Thorin hated his brother sometimes.

Over the next few days Thorin pleaded out of going fishing – Thorin didn’t think he could survive the mortification of another trip out on Bilbo’s boat. Especially not if Bilbo insisted on being so fundamentally attractive that Thorin couldn’t function. Well, one part of him was able to function just fine, while the all coherent thought escaped. He’d never had it so bad before.

Dís claimed that Bilbo had asked after him the last couple of times but Thorin was certain it was out of relief he no longer had to go saving people.

One evening after barbecuing the pikes Frerin had caught and Dís’ bass, Thorin went out to sit on the beach, smiling as he listened to Kíli’s excited trilling from indoors as Frerin carried him on his shoulders. There was only so much a man’s eardrums could take, after all.

The sun had nearly set when he went out and it had gone down fully by the time he started to think about going in. They’d been in the Shire for a week now and Thorin wasn’t sure how much longer he could survive; unattainable crushes didn’t do much to help relieve sexual frustration, especially when the only alone time he had was in the shower.

“That’s a long face,” someone commented behind him, making him jump and he leapt to his feet, face prickling with heat when he saw Bilbo. “Something on your mind? Anything I can help with?”

Thorin refrained from saying ‘you’; somehow he didn’t think Bilbo would appreciate being told that he was the source of all Thorin’s problems. Instead he settled for a safe non-committal noise as he gestured back at the house, Fíli’s out of tune singing still carrying across the still air. Bilbo just made an understanding noise and - to Thorin’s complete disbelief - sat on the log next to the spot Thorin had just vacated. He looked up at Thorin and gestured he should join him; Thorin did so, feeling his stomach knot and palms begin to sweat. He could see the curve of Bilbo’s neck as he looked out across the water, before quickly looking away and returning his gaze to safer things.

“Are you enjoying yourself here?” Bilbo asked, turning to look at Thorin, who tried not to jump at the question.

“I - Yes,” he said eventually. “It’s...nice.” He internally cringed at the poor adjective. Bilbo smiled a little at that and Thorin saw him try to hide it by looking back out on the lake.

“And yet you don’t come fishing anymore,” he said, his tone too light to be accusatory but there was a definite question there.

Thorin felt himself flushing, his skin prickling uncomfortably in embarrassment. “Yes, well,” he said, shifting a little. “I figured you didn’t need to go saving me again. A man can only lose so much dignity, you know,” he said, trying to sound off-handed. Mahal, he had no dignity left; his nephews would forever remember him as “the uncle who fell off a boat”. Perhaps it’d become the new family anecdote and replace the time Frerin drove into a tree.

Beside him Bilbo gave a chuckle and Thorin tried not to drink in the sound too obviously. The man was so cute Thorin was going to lose it any minute now if he wasn’t careful. “I don’t know,” he said, “it wasn’t that bad, rescuing you. No one else believes me, you know,” he said cheerfully. “They all think I’m making it up.”

“Why would you do that?” Thorin asked in confusion, mystified.

“Well.” Bilbo shifted now, sounding distinctly uncomfortable too. “It’s just my last boyfriend looked a little like you - as in, not like you but - oh Eru,” Bilbo sounded mortified and Thorin tried not to laugh. “I just meant with all the hair and the muscles and the rugged manliness and... Oh god, kill me now,” he finished, head in his hands. Thorin had given up trying not to laugh and was laughing into his hand now, shoulders shaking in mirth. Bilbo looked at him reproachfully. “Just ignore everything I just said.”

“I’ve never been complimented in such a roundabout way before,” Thorin said, voice still full of amusement and Bilbo dropped his head into his hands again, though Thorin could see a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I think I like it.”

“Yeah, well don’t get used to it,” Bilbo mumbled. “Unless you come fishing again. Your brother and nephews are quite incorrigible.”

“Don’t know what makes you think I can help with that,” Thorin replied evenly. Frerin was impossible.

“If all else fails, maybe the fish will be attracted to your rugged manliness,” Bilbo smirked, looking up at Thorin. His curls fell attractively about his face and Thorin had to work to keep a straight face, his insides doing strange things to him again.

“Maybe,” he murmured softly, not breaking eye contact with Bilbo; Thorin willed himself to keep his cool just for a few moments more, because something was going to happen now, he was sure of it-

Frerin happened.

“Come on, loser,” he yelled across to Thorin, who jumped and looked round to see his brother with a delighted Fíli on his shoulders. “Kíli wants you to give him a ride!” And with that Frerin started running in a circle making helicopter noises, ducking and making Fíli squeal and catch onto him in delight.

With a sigh Thorin stood, and Bilbo scrambled up too. “I’d...best be off,” he said awkwardly, gesturing back up at the smial where Kíli’s calls were added to his brother’s.

“Ah yes,” Bilbo said with a smirk. “Go and be ridden.” Even in the dusk Thorin could see he turned quite an amazing shade of red. “I didn’t mean like that!” he squeaked as Thorin didn’t even try and hold back his laughter, though his insides were squirming because Bilbo’s flushed cheeks were providing his imagination with far too much ammunition at the thought of being ridden by Bilbo. He stopped that thought right there. “I’m so sorry,” Bilbo was saying. “Just pretend I never said that.”

“Said what?” Thorin smiled and Bilbo grinned back in relief.

“Will I see you tomorrow on the boat?” he asked, picking up his pack from where he’d dropped it. Thorin hesitated only a moment before nodding and he tried to ignore the little flutter in his stomach at Bilbo’s answering smile.

“Uncle _Thorin,”_ he heard Kíli call miserably and he turned to go.

“Until tomorrow, then,” he said and Bilbo nodded and smiled. Thorin walked back towards the smial, totally not looking out of the corner of his eye as Bilbo walked away. He only gave Frerin a serene smile when he prodded him about what he’d been talking about with Bilbo which gave his brother reason to pause.

“Dís, the man just _smiled._ Are you feeling alright?” he asked in mock concern. Thorin felt more than alright, because he’d be seeing Bilbo again tomorrow.

-

Of course, some deity must have had it in for Thorin because the next day, of all the days it could have been, it was the one day it decided to rain and they weren’t going anywhere. Fíli and Kíli bemoaned the fact they couldn’t go out and catch any more fish; Thorin couldn’t give two hoots about the fish but he’d been looking forward to seeing Bilbo. After their talk the night before he couldn’t help feeling like something had changed; he knew his silly crush was indeed that and that he’d have to act like an adult and ignore it before it hurt him, but he had to admit that the thought of seeing Bilbo again had been making his stomach twist.

But instead he was stuck indoors with a hyperactive Fíli and Kíli and curious Frerin - Thorin could just tell he wasn’t going to give up trying to pester details of the night before out of him.

And so he went a day without seeing Bilbo and instead resorting to working off his frustration in the shower again that evening, scowling darkly at the rain-grey sky and the rippling surface of the lake.

The next few trips out on the boat were more successful than the first, but only because Bilbo didn’t have to dive in and save Thorin again. Thorin remained firmly sitting down the entire time, staying well out of the way of the boom; he saw Bilbo’s amused little smirk, his lips quirking upwards, and tried to ignore that, though it wasn’t entirely successful and he spent more time day-dreaming about what it might be like to kiss him than actually concentrating on fishing.

Thorin had once again retreated to the lake again to get some respite from the noise of whatever game his nephews were playing now, and when a voice called out a greeting he span around almost eagerly as he recognised it.

“Hi,” he greeted Bilbo, the other man dumping his pack and rod to climb down to the water’s edge and join him.

“Hey,” Bilbo returned, smiling up at him. His skin seemed to have tanned even more golden since that morning, and Thorin unconsciously licked his lips at the thought of what it would taste like, feel like under his hands... Quickly he glanced away, hoping his body wouldn’t betray him this time. “You alright, Thorin?”

“Yes,” Thorin said - too quickly, if he was honest, but he just hoped his inner turmoil wasn’t showing on his face. “You?”

“I’m good,” Bilbo smiled at him and for a minute neither looked away, before Bilbo did so, clapping his hands against his sides. “Can you skim stones?” he asked quickly.

Thorin’s mouth twisted up in a smile. “I haven’t _always_ been so uncomfortable around nature,” he said, chuckling. “I beat Frerin every time when we were younger,” he said proudly and it was Bilbo’s turn to chuckle.

“I’ve never been able to,” he sighed. “Will you show me?”

“I - um, yes, I suppose so,” Thorin said stutteringly. “You need a flat stone...” Bilbo knelt down quickly - and Thorin’s mind threatened to wander then, as Bilbo’s hand curled around a smooth flat pebble and he looked up at him.

“Will this one do?”

“Looks fine,” he said thickly, clearing his throat. Bilbo straightened and stood there, looking at Thorin to tell him what to do. “You have to hold it like this-” Bilbo didn’t quite get it so, swallowing his nervousness, he guided Bilbo’s hands himself. They were cool and soft as he showed him how to hold the pebble properly. “And then you draw it back like so, and then - you throw.” Bilbo watched Thorin curiously and mirrored the action, his pebble jumping once before sinking. “That wasn’t bad,” Thorin said, smiling slightly.

“You think so?” Bilbo asked a little breathlessly, his smile lighting up his face. He picked up another pebble. “You’ll have to help me with this one,” he said, stepping in front of Thorin and getting into position, leaving Thorin no choice but to ignore the fluttering of his stomach and place his arms around Bilbo’s. The man’s body was so warm - his shirt was so thin Thorin could feel the heat radiating off him. As he helped Bilbo hold the stone properly again Bilbo shifted slightly in front of him, his body pressing up against his. Thorin grit his teeth before his mind started to get ideas. He focused instead of moving Bilbo’s arm.

“Remember to let go,” he said lightly and Bilbo chuckled. Thorin moved Bilbo’s arm in a sharp motion and Bilbo let go; Thorin heard his delighted little huff as the pebble bounced six times before sinking, leaving little ripples on the surface.

“Oh,” Bilbo said softly, making no leave to move and Thorin was loathe to put distance between them. “That was good.” He shifted a little again as he spoke, his breathy voice making Thorin choke as he tried to keep himself in check.

“Well,” he said rather hoarsely, “sometimes it can last up to ten, if you’re very practiced...”

“Are you?” Bilbo asked, bending down again and presenting Thorin with a view of his pert behind in those trousers that clung just deliciously tightly to his ass and thighs. Thorin bit his tongue as Bilbo straightened again to keep his mind in check, though it was difficult when Bilbo’s curls were rippling just underneath Thorin’s chin and his body was still pressed close.

“What?” he asked stupidly, completely having forgotten what Bilbo was talking about.

“Are you very practiced at handling stones?” Bilbo asked and Thorin did choke then, completely overwhelmed. He didn’t answer and instead helped Bilbo throw his pebble, and it reached ten jumps before sinking.

“Yes,” he said finally, and neither of them moved, Thorin still with his arms enclosing Bilbo, their hands touching.

“Thorin,” Bilbo whispered and before he knew what was happening Bilbo had twisted in his arms and was kissing him. Mahal below, Bilbo was _kissing_ him - he let out a strangled sort of noise before reaching for Bilbo, his hands finding the man’s hips and pulling him closer, Bilbo’s hands coming up to fist in his hair.

Bilbo licked at Thorin’s bottom lip, requesting entrance and Thorin groaned before complying, the feel of Bilbo’s tongue hot and sending sparks shooting through him. Thorin was convinced this was a dream, a very realistic dream but a dream nonetheless; however he was convinced it was all very real when Bilbo nipped at him, pressing even closer and Thorin’s grip on his hips tightened.

“Eru,” Bilbo sighed happily against Thorin’s cheek and he gasped a little when Thorin leant to nuzzle his ear, nipping at it before trailing kisses and nips down Bilbo’s jawline and down to his neck, sucking at that little hollow he’d fantasised about since the very first time he’d seen him. “Thorin,” Bilbo gasped, arching a little at the contact, his hands pulling roughly at Thorin’s hair, making him growl as he straightened.

Bilbo had a blissful smile on his face as Thorin dropped his forehead to Bilbo’s, their breath mingling as they panted.

“You...” was all Thorin could get out, his mind reeling and trousers uncomfortably tight.

“I’ve wanted to do that for ages,” Bilbo admitted, grinning cheekily as he glanced up at Thorin. He moved his hands so they were resting flat against Thorin’s chest. “Rescuing you and having this chest pressed up close against me was just a boon.”

Thorin was too embarrassed to reveal quite how quickly he’d fallen ass over ankles for Bilbo and all the inappropriate things he’d imagined doing to him. Things which didn’t seem quite so far-fetched now that there were small hands tracing his chest through his shirt and deliberately avoiding the areas he most needed them. Instead he just pulled Bilbo into another kiss, quickly becoming heated again, while his hands ran along Bilbo’s sides, his back, feeling the warm skin where his shirt had ridden up; it was a matter of instinct to slip his fingers underneath the thin cotton and trail his fingertips lightly over the smooth skin, making Bilbo tremble and press impossibly closer.

“Thorin,” he said, his voice catching as Thorin’s hands trailed down to cup his ass. “I - wait,” he got out, and Thorin reluctantly drew away, breathing heavily. “I want to show you something,” he said, though Thorin had to admit that he almost didn’t hear, he was so engrossed in the state of Bilbo’s lips, kissed and nipped red.

“Show me something?” he repeated, his brain still caught in a haze.

“Yes,” Bilbo grinned. “But you’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

“Why?” Thorin asked curiously. Bilbo didn’t respond, merely leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Just be here tomorrow evening, about seven. Can you get away for a couple of hours?”

Not if he wanted to ever escape his siblings’ incessant questioning, but he’d deal with that when it came to it. Instead he nodded and kissed Bilbo one last time, sweetly and softly, before Bilbo drew away and turned back up to the path. He picked up his pack and turned back to smile once more at Thorin before hurrying away. No sooner had he gone than he heard Frerin calling for him, so he sighed heavily and took a moment to adjust his trousers before heading inside and hoping no one would notice how red his lips were.

-

The next day was an agony, knowing he’d be seeing Bilbo again that evening but every hour before then was torture. Dís had gone off to the spa again, leaving Thorin and Frerin to deal with a nephew each on the trek up into the hills. It looked as if the lake stretched on forever; the opposite shore was hazy from this high up. There were a couple of boats out, and he wondered which was Bilbo’s.

When they made it back to Dís she gave Thorin a funny look and he rubbed at the back of his neck self-consciously. Frerin saw the action and his eyes widened in glee.

“One of the girls at spa was telling me all the gossip,” she started, and while that in itself was fairly unassuming Thorin knew she’d get to the point eventually. Little sisters always knew how to draw out the interrogation. “And she said that Bilbo’s got himself a new beau.” Thorin said nothing but inside his stomach leapt. “ _Apparently_ he’s been sighing and mooning the entire day, and she also says that he likes his guys tall and well-muscled with dark hair...” She trailed off, looking at Thorin expectantly; he wasn’t going to say anything but at his silence Dís grinned and Frerin crowed in delight at this revelation.

“Oh brother, he wants to tap you too!” he fairly cackled and Thorin had no qualms about elbowing him in the ribs so hard he nearly stumbled into the path-side bush. It didn’t stop him laughing though.

“Truly?” he turned to Dís. “He’s been...”

“Lobelia said he hadn’t told anyone but Bilbo’s hardly the subtle sort. Although I could see that from the way his eyes never left you the days we've been fishing. He’s almost as bad as you, Thorin,” she nudged him and he ignored her last comment. “So? Is it you?”

“Yes,” Thorin felt his ears redden as he admitted it. “At least, we - spoke and... I’m meeting him tonight,” he said. Dís looked pleased but she also stopped him, letting Frerin go on ahead with the boys. She looked at Thorin searchingly, her sharp blue eyes raking across him.

“Just be careful, Thorin,” she said then. “You may be an idiot but you’re still my brother and I don’t want you hurt.”

-

Finally seven o’clock came around and Thorin picked his way down to the shoreline where Bilbo had said to meet him. He wasn’t there just then but a sound to his left made him look over and he saw Bilbo making his way along; when he caught Thorin’s eye he waved him over.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said, grinning widely and Thorin couldn’t help but return the smile.

“What is it?” he asked and Bilbo pointed out to the water; there was a little boat bobbing a short way out.

“There’s something else, too, but you’ll have to get on the boat if you want to see it,” Bilbo said, slotting himself neatly against Thorin, who pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Bilbo,” he said, smiling slightly, “have you forgotten what a disaster my first boat trip was?”

“Of course not,” Bilbo rolled his eyes and grinned. “But I think you’ll find that even you can manage not to fall out of this boat.” Thorin eyed it sceptically; it looked very small. “Now come on,” Bilbo urged and set off towards it, wading through the water. Thorin panicked for just a moment before pulling off his shoes and following; he supposed one benefit was at least the water lapping at Bilbo’s thighs made his trousers cling to him nice and tightly.

When they reached the boat, Thorin saw that it was indeed very small, with two seats in a little hollow in the main body of the boat. He looked at Bilbo questioningly and Bilbo just motioned for him to climb in; warily he tested his weight against the side. Bilbo held it steady for him on the other side and, taking a deep breath, he pushed himself up and settled in the seat, his trousers dripping all over the seats and polished wood while the boat rocked wildly as he tried to balance his weight. Bilbo just grinned as Thorin gripped the sides tightly, knuckles white, and pulled himself up easily, hardly causing the boat to rock at all.

“That’s just showing off,” Thorin grumbled good naturedly as Bilbo set about fixing the sails.

“Just stay sitting down,” Bilbo told him. “I wouldn’t want to have to show you my diving skills again as I leap in to save you if you get knocked off by the boom.”

“I can swim, you know,” Thorin said, mouth tugging in a smile, though it slipped slightly as the boat began to move.

“Ah, but I don’t know that, do I,” Bilbo said softly, kneeling before Thorin and leaning in to kiss him, tugging on his lip with his teeth. “Can’t take any risks.”

Thorin made a noise halfway between a hum and a groan. “Maybe I like risky.”

For some reason that made Bilbo laugh, dropping his forehead to Thorin’s chest, though his hand on Thorin’s showed that he wasn’t laughing at him. “Me, risky?” he chuckled, cheeks flushing pink in the evening light. “I’m not risky. I’m just a guy who likes fishing and has hardly left the Shire. I’m about as safe as the health and safety department. Nothing unexpected or unusual about me, I’m afraid.”

“Well,” Thorin said, “the way you went about seducing me was very unexpected.”

“Effective, though,” Bilbo put in.

“Very,” Thorin agreed. “But I bet you can actually skim pebbles.”

“Oh yes,” Bilbo grinned, leaning closer. “I am very skilled in that...area.” Thorin went in to capture his lips but Bilbo pulled away, laughing. “Not until we get there.”

“Where’s there?” Thorin asked but Bilbo ignored the question and instead steered the boat starboard, heading towards the side of the lake where part of a cliff face overhung it. Trees covered the top of the cliff and hills rolled seamlessly out from it, and Thorin had to admit that it was pleasant. Especially now that he was alone with Bilbo and away from brothers and sisters and nephews. Gradually they reached the cliff and Thorin was at a loss as to what Bilbo wanted to show him. Bilbo turned the boat parallel to the cliff and Thorin saw what it was - there was a small opening in the rock face, just wide enough for their little boat and hidden from view by the uneven face. Carefully Bilbo steered them towards it, manoeuvring it through the small opening, and the sight inside rendered Thorin speechless.

With the dying sunlight from outside reflecting on the water, the inside of the cave was transformed into a fiery cavern, glittering gems in the wall fracturing the light into a hundred thousand little beams. It was so indescribably beautiful that Thorin could only gaze around, mouth open.

“Do you like it?” Bilbo’s quiet voice sounded, waking him from the almost trance-like state he was in.

“It’s... It’s amazing,” Thorin breathed, glancing back at Bilbo and being struck speechless afresh at how beautiful Bilbo looked, his golden honey curls turned to a crown of fire and his hazel eyes flashing bright. Bilbo moved over to sit on the seat next to Thorin, his body warm next to Thorin’s.

“It’s pretty secret,” he said, voice echoing around the space. “Only a few people know about it, but I thought you’d like it.”

“I do,” Thorin assured him, his hand finding Bilbo’s and stroking the knuckles fondly. “Can I kiss you now?”

Bilbo arched his eyebrows as he smiled at Thorin. “I suppose so.”

They met in the middle for a sweet and gentle kiss, Thorin reaching around to cup Bilbo’s head in his palm. But suddenly Bilbo was licking his way into Thorin’s mouth and the kiss became deeper, hotter, more desperate, Bilbo making small keening noises as he adjusted his position, moving until he was practically in Thorin’s lap.

A strangled groan escaped Thorin at that and he broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he turned to trail kisses down Bilbo’s jaw line and neck, Bilbo arching into the contact and suddenly everything was too hot, too tight and Thorin could hardly breathe as Bilbo’s groin pushed into his. Bilbo’s hands were fisting in his hair and his lips were devouring him, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses to his face, neck, jaw. Thorin had cupped Bilbo’s ass and was pulling him in closer, closer; small fingers appeared at Thorin’s shirt and began trying to undo the buttons, failing as the hands shook with need and Bilbo let out a frustrated noise which echoed around the cave.

Thorin caught those deft fingers in his own and kissed them, grinning as Bilbo writhed with impatience in his lap, grumbling and running his hands through Thorin’s hair as Thorin undid his own shirt, fumbling over them until Bilbo fairly ripped it off him, making the boat rock suddenly and Thorin gripped the side of it tightly, suddenly more interested in not falling out than the cool palms running over his now-bare torso.

“Bilbo,” he mumbled but Bilbo merely made an annoyed noise and continued kissing him; the boat balanced itself out and Thorin returned to kissing Bilbo thoroughly much to the smaller man’s satisfaction, if his pleased noises were any indication. Now that Thorin’s shirt was off, he felt it necessary for Bilbo’s shirt to come off too, his mouth watering at the expanse of lightly tanned flesh exposed to him then. He pressed a kiss to Bilbo’s shoulder, licking the skin experimentally. Bilbo tasted like sunshine.

Things got tricky as Bilbo tried to shuck their trousers off, all coherent thought stopping at the first feel of his warm hand right where Thorin needed it most, his hips bucking up into the touch of their own accord and Thorin felt Bilbo’s grin against his neck. At the movement however the boat tipped again and Thorin’s hand flew out to catch the side of it and try to balance it, which it thankfully did after a moment. Bilbo seemed unperturbed however and his hands continued to explore Thorin thoroughly, his mouth everywhere all at once and his body impossibly close.

Bilbo tried to pull Thorin’s trousers off, tugging at them in irritation and Thorin tried to help him, he needed them _off,_ but once again the boat rocked a little too sharply.

“Bilbo,” he said, his voice gruff. “Bilbo, this isn’t going to - work,” he groaned the last word out and grit his teeth, because that felt _wonderful._ “The boat,” he managed to get out and Bilbo looked at him, lips kissed raw and eyes bright.

“What about it?” he asked, his voice rougher than usual and the sound was so arousing that Thorin felt as if he was on fire.

“It’s going to - to capsize,” he bit out around kissing Bilbo’s chest; he couldn’t get enough of the round softness of it, so lacking in hair unlike himself, and the tanned gold skin that spoke of days spent out in the sun.

“No it won’t,” Bilbo murmured into his neck and seemed to give up on Thorin’s trousers, the buttons undone but the rest of the still damp fabric proving too much for him. But that didn’t stop him undoing his own and shedding them, dropping them to the floor of the boat. It was the most delicious sight Thorin had ever seen, his hands reaching out automatically and curving around that arse, but it didn’t stop the fundamental fact that the whole bloody boat was shaking and rocking with every gradually more frenzied movement.

“Bilbo,” he said again, slight laughter bubbling up at this whole situation. “Bilbo, we’re going to fall in,” he said, though his protests were cut off by hot lips on his as a mostly naked Bilbo pressed him down so that he was lying across the seat.

“Maybe you can balance it this way,” he said, grinning cheekily at Thorin who was having trouble forming a response because hands were slipping under the waistband of his pants and beginning to tug them down. “You’ll have to keep still, my love,” he heard Bilbo say and then all coherent thought left him. Small hands kept his hips down as warmth enveloped him but they still bucked up and the boat was bobbing far too sharply for Thorin’s liking, until after one particularly sharp thrust the boat rocked so much that Bilbo slipped from Thorin’s lap, landing with a small thud on the bottom of the boat.

“Bilbo!” Thorin sat up, his skin feeling too small for his body and sure he looked completely ruined; his eyes met Bilbo’s where he sat in a bit of a daze, looking as wrecked as Thorin felt, and suddenly they both started laughing, Bilbo’s light laughter and Thorin’s deep chuckles reverberating off the walls of the cave as Bilbo climbed back up into Thorin’s lap.

“Eru,” he giggled into Thorin’s neck, tremors of laughter still travelling through him. Thorin could feel them in his back as he held him. Bilbo smiled up at him, biting his lip, which was already kissed red and raw and the sight of the marks Thorin had left on his skin filled him with a possessive desire to keep him close. “Perhaps this wasn’t my best idea.”

Thorin had to agree, but instead he just kissed him again, slowly and gently, pulling away before things could get too heated again. He didn’t fancy a repeat of the incident, even if he did feel like he was about to burst. Instead he brushed his lips over Bilbo’s hair, twisting the curls around his fingers. “Perhaps not,” he agreed, smiling at Bilbo’s sigh.

“It’s just I’ve always wanted to make love on a boat,” he said with a sigh, laying his head on Thorin’s chest as he played with Thorin’s hair. Thorin felt himself tense slightly at that and made himself relax before Bilbo noticed. He’d fancied the pants off Bilbo ever since he’d first seen him, and still did, but love? It was certainly true that he didn’t want Bilbo in anyone else’s arms again and he’d be perfectly happy to simply stay here forever with Bilbo beside him... He internally shook himself; Bilbo’s choice of words was simply less crass than any other expression. No doubt Bilbo just saw him as a way to get what he wanted before Thorin would leave and they’d never see each other again.

He must have frowned then because Bilbo pressed a kiss to it. “I’m sorry I didn’t think this all through,” he said sheepishly and Thorin forced himself to smooth it away.

“It’s not so bad,” he smiled, running his hands up and down Bilbo’s sides. “There are other ways...” And with a devilish grin he kissed Bilbo soundly before taking him in hand, the other man making the most delightful noises as Thorin brought him to completion.

-

After they were both sated, Thorin wrapped himself around Bilbo who drew out a blanket and threw it over them, and they simply talked. They talked about anything and everything as the night grew dark outside the cave, the gems in the wall like a hundred thousand stars. Occasionally Thorin would amuse himself by pressing kisses to Bilbo’s bare back and sides and neck, tasting the sunlight that seemed to linger on Bilbo’s skin even so long after sunset, and Bilbo would fiddle with Thorin’s hair, laughing at the feel of his beard tickling his sensitive skin.

Thorin was vaguely surprised at how quickly he felt comfortable enough to share things with Bilbo, and was definitely surprised when he felt like he wanted to share it all with him - beds, meals, time... He knew it would all be over as soon as he returned home; Bilbo would no doubt forget about him soon enough and it was only that thought that kept him from asking what was going to happen aloud.

At about midnight Bilbo pulled his clothes on - or most of them, anyway - and they moved out of the cave and back onto open water but this time Thorin didn’t know where they were headed. Bilbo kept turning to smile at him as the boat cut through the dark water and soon they were stopping at a small jetty, another boat already docked there too, Bilbo mooring the boat and helping Thorin out and keeping hold of Thorin’s hand as he led him past the trees that formed a screen from the shore. There was another smial hidden in amongst the undergrowth, a well-tended garden surrounding it.

“Your home?” Thorin asked softly as Bilbo unlocked the door and switched on a lamp, a soft warm light filling the air and bathing Bilbo in gold. He nodded, suddenly quiet, and pulled Thorin in for a kiss and Thorin let him, simply committing everything to memory - the feel of him, the taste, the little sounds he made when Thorin touched him just _there._

They lay together in Bilbo’s bed afterwards, drifting between sleep and wakefulness, not saying much but merely revelling in the other’s presence. Bilbo was worth every single awkward encounter they’d had, and Bilbo laughed when Thorin told him so, saying he wasn’t so bad himself.

Eventually, though it felt all too soon for Thorin, the sun had risen fully and it was time for Bilbo to take the boat round and Thorin to return to Dís and the others. He walked back, having salvaged his clothes and shoes from the boat, following the path that Bilbo must have walked a hundred times.

Dís and Frerin gave him scarily identical grins as he walked in, making him terribly self-conscious.

“Well, Thorin?” Frerin prodded when no details were forthcoming. “Is Bilbo as good at riding as he is at fishing?”

“Shut up,” he scowled at his brother as he continued to his bedroom, ignoring the look his brother and sister threw at each other behind his back. He got washed and dressed, but despite the time spent with Bilbo the night before - or perhaps because of it - he felt strangely depressed.

A knock on the door alerted him and he looked up as Dís entered. The look in her eyes was strangely soft, like she had whenever she watched Fíli and Kíli. “Was everything alright?” Dís asked, shutting the door behind her and sitting at the foot of his bed. He shrugged and she tutted and gave a sigh of exasperation. “Thorin, I’ve known you long enough to know you’re not completely fine,” she said sharply. “Now, you can tell me or you can tell Frerin. It’s your call.” She matched his glare and he sighed, annoyed at how his sister could twist his arm so.

“I’m not… I can’t do this,” he said.

“Do what?”

“This whole… the not-caring thing,” he said miserably. “I can’t not care about it, about…him.”

“So you did sleep with him?” she asked and Thorin nodded as he felt himself get a little warm under the collar.

“And we’re leaving the day after tomorrow and I don’t know what to do,” he said, looking at his sister almost plaintively; when he held out her arms he went to them without hesitation and let her fold him into a hug. “He’s hardly left the Shire, isn’t planning on leaving the Shire and probably wouldn’t want to anyway.”

“Have you spoken to him about this?” Dís asked, her hands making soothing motions in his hair. He shook his head. “Well, that’s what you need to do,” she said, drawing away far enough to look him in the eye. “Caring isn’t a bad thing, Thorin, but it might be if you don’t talk to him.” Thorin said nothing, just looked at the covers on the bed and tried to avoid thinking about last night. Dís sighed. “Come on, you,” she said, standing up and pulling him up with her. “We’re going on a nice long trek this morning and Kíli’s already inherited your scowl; I won’t have him copy your moping face either.”

“He’s your kid, not mine,” he pointed out.

“Thank Mahal for that. Remember when Fíli was born and you got offended that he cried when you held him?”

“I didn’t know he just needed his nappy changing,” Thorin said defensively and Dís just chuckled, kissing him on his cheek.

“Come on, grumpy-guts. Cheer up and put it out of mind on the walk.”

Thorin sighed and tried to do as she said, and for the most part he felt better, but he still couldn’t help the small knot of disappointment in his gut. He’d never been one for clichés, but it looked like this was his summer romance, one not meant to last beyond the warm evenings of this holiday. And while it wasn’t a cheerful thought, he was glad he’d agreed to come – even one night with Bilbo was worth it, though he wasn’t sure he’d still think that when it was time to go home.

They got back from their hike in the late evening, having spent a few hours at the top of one of the hills and having a picnic up there. Thorin was trailing behind with a tired nephew clinging to each arm, each trying to stand on a foot so they wouldn’t have to walk, although it wasn’t really working for them, when a voice called out a greeting and Bilbo appeared beside him. Thorin tried not to smile too widely at him, though just the sight of him made him want to grin.

He got Fíli and Kíli to hurry up ahead to join Dís and Frerin, who turned and smiled when they saw that Bilbo was there and discreetly quickened their pace until Thorin and Bilbo were alone.

“Hi,” Bilbo said, almost shyly, and Thorin smiled.

“Hey,” he returned and Bilbo smiled at him, a hand reaching out to fiddle with one of Thorin’s shirt buttons. He looked at Thorin uncertainly as he moved closer and Thorin pulled him in to a kiss; when they parted Bilbo looked much happier.

“Are you alright?” he asked, looking up at Thorin worriedly.

“I’m fine,” he said. His insides were doing things again and he realised that although he hardly knew Bilbo, he would miss him.

“I was wondering if you’d like to come back to my place again,” Bilbo said hopefully, his curls ruffling in the slight breeze, and Thorin knew he’d agree. So he ended up carrying Bilbo’s fishing pack – despite the younger man’s protestations – and walking back to Bilbo’s house hand in hand with him. It was so nice, so peaceful, and if Thorin savoured it a little more than was necessary, well, Bilbo didn’t notice.

They hardly made it inside before falling into bed; it was less frenzied than before but not by much and they were both sweating and panting afterwards.

“It’s too hot for this,” Bilbo chuckled even as he snuggled against Thorin, who curled his arm over Bilbo’s hip protectively, lightly brushing the soft skin with his fingertips.

“Would you rather have waited until this evening?” he asked, his low voice rumbling in Bilbo’s ear as he nuzzled at Bilbo’s neck.

“Hm,” Bilbo hummed, “no, I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Thorin said, flicking his tongue out to taste the saltiness. His hands continued wandering and Bilbo smiled at the attention, his eyes fluttering closed. Thorin watched him for just a moment, admiring the way he looked in the late afternoon sun, blissed out and sated and so maddeningly desirable. “Bilbo…”

Bilbo flicked an eye open, looking at him questioningly. “You’re looking far too serious,” he said sitting up and drawing Thorin down to meet him. He pressed a chaste kiss to Thorin’s lips. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” Thorin swallowed thickly, unsure of how to proceed. “We’re leaving the day after tomorrow.”

Bilbo frowned, his face falling and he dropped back to the sheets, avoiding Thorin’s gaze. “I know,” he said softly.

Thorin paused, his hand hovering over Bilbo’s hip. “You know?”

“I know the check-in and out dates of everyone who stays,” Bilbo said, still not looking at Thorin. Thorin moved so that he was above Bilbo, forcing him to meet his gaze with a gentle hand to his cheek.

“Well?” he asked softly.

“Well what?” Bilbo repeated, his voice strangely flat. Thorin rolled off him and back onto his side, propping his head up on his hand.

“What about…what we’ve got?” Thorin asked. He’d been going to say ‘us’, but perhaps it sounded clingy. “What do you want to do about…this?” he gestured between them. Bilbo’s gaze flicked to him before back to the ceiling and he let out a small huff.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. Thorin tucked one of his curls back behind his ear.

“You could visit me,” he said hopefully, “in the city. I know you weren’t planning on leaving the Shire but we could visit each other.” Bilbo’s lack of reaction was worrying him now and he forced himself to stop talking before he went too far. “Bilbo?” he asked finally.

“What do you want me to say?” Bilbo asked him, his eyes wide, and Thorin wasn’t sure if his voice was plaintive or annoyed. He sat up, Bilbo mirroring the action and they looked at each other for a few long moments. Thorin wasn’t sure where the carefree moments with barely an inch between them were gone, when now suddenly they were separated by more than just a bed.

“Telling me whether we’ve got anything even resembling a future would be a start,” he said, gritting his teeth. Inside he could feel his heart twisting painfully; he’d known this moment was coming, in all honesty, but it didn’t mean it hurt any less.

“Oh, Thorin,” Bilbo huffed in exasperation, flopping back down onto the bed and curling in on himself, facing away from Thorin. “How can I? I hardly know you-“

“That wasn’t a problem before you got me into your bed,” Thorin said harshly, just restraining the tide of emotion that was welling up in him as he got up from the bed and pulled on his trousers, bundling up his shirt and making for the door. He couldn’t stay a moment longer. “I hope I serviced you adequately.”

“Thorin!” Bilbo called out desperately. “That was different – I – where are you going?”

Thorin ignored him, striding out of Bilbo’s house as fast as he could and hurrying down the path that would take him back to their smial. He thought he could hear Bilbo calling him but he didn’t stop, keeping going until he was well away and stopped to put his shirt back on. He was trembling in anger and hurt and his face when he got back must have been suitably contorted, as no one said anything as he strode through the house to his shared bedroom, flopping on his bed and breathing heavily until he was calmer, pressing the heels of his palms to his strangely-prickling eyes.

-

The next day was slightly subdued with the knowledge that it was their last day, though perhaps Thorin was biased. Every other minute found his thoughts wandering, usually to Bilbo and his tanned gold skin in the sun and his honey curls and his soft lips; every moment that wasn’t spent thinking of Bilbo was spent trying to avoid thinking of Bilbo. His mother had always told him he felt too deeply, too strongly, and she’d always seemed to know it would end up being his downfall one day.

Fíli and Kíli wanted to go fishing and see Bilbo one last time before they left; Thorin pleaded off and wandered around aimlessly, just hoping that Mahal wouldn’t be so cruel as to inflict Bilbo on him now. But he didn’t and he met the others back at the house in time for lunch, where they ate fresh fried fish (which it turned out Bilbo had caught for them. Thorin should have known by the shifty looks Dís kept sending him until he wormed it out of her afterwards). The afternoon they spent by the lakeside, Fíli and Kíli squealing as Frerin splashed them with water, chasing them until they were all thoroughly soaked. Thorin helped pack after dinner, doing a final check for things the boys might have forgotten (a wise move, as he found a bit of Kíli’s blanket fallen under the sofa).

He didn’t sleep for a long while, instead watching the moon reflect on the lake and his treacherous mind reminding him of that night on the lake, before he punched his pillow and forced himself to sleep. It must have worked eventually, because the next thing he knew Frerin was poking him awake and breakfast was cooking. Fíli and Kíli were subdued and sombre, though Thorin knew the wheedling would start soon as they begged to stay a little longer. While they finished up with breakfast Thorin and Frerin set about packing their bags in the car.

Fíli and Kíli had come to supposedly ‘help’, though it was more just that they ran around getting in the way, and Dís had just come out with the final things to be packed when Thorin stopped.

Bilbo stood there, looking very uncomfortable but determined.

“Hi,” he said, falsely lightly and looking as if he very much expected Thorin to bite his head off.

Everyone seemed to pause for a minute before starting up again, deliberately looking busy while, if Thorin knew his family at all, they’d be listening in closely. He walked over to one of the trees that marked the start of the beach and Bilbo followed.

“I need to talk to you,” Bilbo said when Thorin finally turned to look at him, arms crossed over his chest.

“What about?” Thorin asked shortly. “I don’t think I have anything to say to you.”

Bilbo ran a hand through his hair and Thorin had to resist the urge to reach out and tuck it behind his ear. “You’re not making this any easier, you know,” he said and Thorin snorted.

“I think I’ve been easy enough for you, don’t you?”

“Thorin,” Bilbo said, sounding hurt and Thorin tightened his arms around himself, as if he could protect himself that way.

“Spare me your hurt feelings,” he said, keeping his voice low but the anger was evident. “You _used_ me.”

“No!” Bilbo protested. “No, I didn’t, Thorin! That’s what I came here to say. I fancied you right from the start but I – I wouldn’t do that. I – I’d like to visit you, if you’d have me.”

Thorin’s heart twisted suddenly and painfully as he looked at Bilbo’s face, bright with hope. “You’d like to visit me?”

Bilbo’s face fell slightly. “Yes, like you – you said. If we wanted. To make this…” he trailed off. “I want to try and make us work,” he said determinedly, looking Thorin in the eye.

“Us?” Thorin repeated stupidly; his brain must have stopped working because all he seemed capable of doing was repeating Bilbo’s words like a parrot.

“Yes,” Bilbo said firmly. “Us. The other day, I was… I was nervous, Thorin, that’s all; I just didn’t know how to say it.”

“But you want there to be an ‘us’?”

“I do very much,” Bilbo looked at him and bit his lip. “Very much.” He stepped closer and took one of Thorin’s hands, rubbing the knuckle gently and Thorin caught the hand in both of his own, still disbelieving and a little dazed. “May I kiss you now?” Bilbo asked, looking up at Thorin from underneath his eyelashes and Thorin’s throat closed up suddenly.

“I suppose so,” he said, his mouth quirking upwards in a smile, and then Bilbo was reaching up on his tiptoes and Thorin leant down to meet him halfway in a kiss that was sweet and gentle and tasted of sunshine and promise.

Thorin broke it first, resting his forehead against Bilbo’s and smiling at the happy smiling spreading across the shorter man’s face as he looked at him.

“I know you said you wanted to make love on a boat,” he said, and admired the way Bilbo flushed quite a delectable shade of pink.

“We don’t-“ he tried to protest but Thorin just carried on over him. “I don’t have a boat,” he said seriously, keeping Bilbo’s gaze on him. “But I do have a rather nice balcony.”

Bilbo’s only answer was to flush even brighter and pull him in for another kiss.

**Finis**

**Author's Note:**

> Eheheheh. Oh god. I don't know any more. In other news, only one more exam tomorrow and then I'm free for the entire summer! Yay. XD
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed. <3
> 
> Don't forget you can find me on [tumblr](http://bespectacled-hobbits.tumblr.com/) .


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